


Princess of the North

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Baby, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Lyanna Mormont Lives, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, The Politics of baby names, Theon Greyjoy Lives, because I say so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: “All the best people are fathered by sigils, Your Grace. Even if the direwolf that fathered the new princess or prince might have a few more tentacles than is common.”
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 117





	Princess of the North

**Author's Note:**

> @robbeonsa asked me for a fic with Sansa and a baby so here it is!
> 
> Also for the purposes of this fic Theon still has his cock because I said so

“My child was fathered by a wolf.” Sansa held her head up high and determinedly did not look at the commander of her Queensguard.

She knew Theon would be smirking, their relationship was hardly unknown to the residents of Winterfell, for all that politics kept them from being wed.

She needed to be a Stark to rule the North, and so did her heirs, while Theon had to be a Greyjoy until his sister had heirs of her own. They could not marry but it did not prevent them from living like man and wife.

Lyanna Mormont let out a deep laugh that belied her tiny stature, “All the best people are fathered by sigils, Your Grace. Even if the direwolf that fathered the new princess or prince might have a few more tentacles than is common.”

There was a beat of silence, as all the lords looked at each other and at Sansa as though unsure how to respond. A beat of silence that lasted exactly as long as it took for Theon to break down into wheezing laughter that had clutching at his stomach in pain.

Sansa allowed herself a slight smile, “Quite so Lady Mormont. My child will be a Stark though, no matter how many tentacles they might have.”

Her jape sparked the laughter that the lords had been trying to hold in, and the sound of joviality filled the hall.

It was a good sound. One that was still heard far less than it should have been. One that was heard far less than it had been when the halls had belonged to her father.

“Well said, Your Grace.” Lord Manderly said with the joviality he was known for. “We shall all look forward to the birth of a new prince or princess of the North. With you as a mother we know that they will be a worthy heir to the throne.”

A blatant as Lord Manderly’s flattery was, it was still reassuring to hear the support they had for her, the faith they had in her abilities. 

Sansa smiled, “Thank you, my Lord. It is my hope that this will only be the first of many children to bless the North.”

The raucous cheers that met her words would have blown her away had she not been prepared for them. Sansa looked over her celebrating lords with satisfaction, with their reaction she finally felt secure with their support of the crown upon her brow.

A relief to be sure, considering the work she still had to do before her babe was born.

* * *

There was something incredibly difficult about choosing a name for her child. Sansa knew that she would have to be careful with her choice, to make it a name which would not favour one of her bannermen, but also a name that was strong and Northern and Stark.

As much as she wished to name a daughter for her mother, her heir could not hold a Riverlands name, nor could she call a daughter Lyanna or Alys for it would appear as if she favoured one of her bannermen over another. She would have loved to name a daughter Robyn as well, but that was a Ryswell name, not a Stark name, and besides would make people think she was honouring her cousin in the Vale. 

Arya was a possibility, as was Lyarra or Eddara, or even Serena, for all were Stark names, and yet she struggled to chose between them.

It was no easier to chose the name for a son, for there were just as many political implications to take into account.

Brandon was the Stark name, and she doubted any would have criticised her use of it, and yet it was the name of the King in the South. For all Bran was her brother she could not be seen to be honouring him, not while her rule was still fragile.

Torrhen would also not send a good message, the name of the King who Knelt would not be a good name for the heir to the Northern throne, and although Sansa hated to admit it, Jon was out for the same reasons. 

Robb or Eddard or Rickon or even Benjen would get little argument from anyone, but deciding which of her lost family to honour was difficult in and of itself.

Sansa did not think she would choose Eddard, for this babe was Theon’s too, and she would not ask him to name a child of his after the man who had been his jailer. Maybe a few babes later, but not his first child, to do so would be cruel indeed.

Back when she was dreaming of Highgarden or a handsome golden prince she would have named her child by any passing whim, would have named them for her lost family with no thought of the politics, and yet as Queen she could never forget politics. 

Not even with something as innocuous as a babe’s name. 

* * *

Wails filled the halls, the sharp wailing of new life. The sound of indignation at being forced from a warm home into the cold outside world.

It was a beautiful sound. 

Smiles were on the faces of every maid, every stableboy, every guard. The bells rang out over Wintertown, a celebration of new life as had not been heard since the Queen’s own birth.

The alehouses raised toasts in celebration of the new heir; those in the street called out blessings to one another, and everywhere there was cheer that the Stark line was secure and that they would not be subjected to Southern rule again.

Inside the birthing chambers Sansa knew none of this, she would be informed later when she emerged, but for a short time it was just her, her love, and their new babe.

“She’s perfect.” Theon breathed, looking down at the new princess of the North held in his arms.

“She is.” Sansa agreed, her gaze focused on the tuft of red hair that poked up from behind her swaddling, “The most beautiful babe in Westeros.”

Theon’s eyes crinkled at the corners, “She takes after her mother already. Let’s hope she has your brains as well. She’ll be doomed if she has mine.”

Gently Sansa batted at his arm, “Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Besides, she’ll be taught by both of us and it doesn’t matter how slow a learner she is so long as she learns.”

“We will do all we can to ensure she will never go through what we did.” Theon vowed to Sansa, his voice and eyesso very solemn, “And if she has to, well then she will be more prepared than we were.”

Sansa felt tears fill her eyes at the thought of her precious babe going through even half of what she and Theon had been through, but what he said was true. They would do everything in their power to make sure that their little princess was safe including giving her the tools to protect herself.

“What name have you decided for her then?” Theon asked quietly, for he knew how Sansa had struggled to decide.

“Lyarra.” Sansa said softly, as she brushed a finger down her daughter’s soft cheek, “For my grandmother and in part for Arya. I could not name her for my sister, can you imagine her reaction?”

Theon grinned at her, “Arya would have cried and then killed anyone who had seen her cry.”

“Exactly. I cannot have my sister kill the whole of Winterfell, it would put quite the dampener on my daughter’s birth.”

Theon laughed, a clear sound that never failed to make Sansa smile. He was the only person in Winterfell who consistently got her sense of humour, and she did so relish whenever she managed to make him laugh.

“I had thought that our next daughter might be named Alannys?” Sansa offered, “And I should like a Catelyn as well should we be so blessed. And a Robb and a Rickon too of course, I want these halls to ring out with the sound of children’s laughter again.”

“Princess Lyarra Stark.” Theon net her eyes so Sansa could see the sincerity there, “It is a good name.”

Sansa took her babe back and looked into those wide blue eyes she hoped changed to match Theon’s green. 

“You will never spend a moment thinking you are not loved,” Sansa said to her daughter, loving infusing every pore of her body, “This I swear to you my daughter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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